


Please, Take Your Time

by badassontheblock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Boys Kissing, Cinnamon Roll Draco Malfoy, Confessions, Dorks, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sweet Draco Malfoy, but you can bet your arse they will be, not quite in love yet, oh look my three favorite tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 18:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badassontheblock/pseuds/badassontheblock
Summary: Draco's made it halfway through Eighth Year through numb routine. All he wants is to be lonely in peace, thanks very much. It's really not that sad.Enter Potter and his gang of devoted and overly organized minions.





	Please, Take Your Time

**Author's Note:**

> Back once again!! From my extended and unannounced hiatus!! I've barely been active for months, and I'm so sorry about that. That said, I have this! So I hope you like it just as much as I loved writing it :)

Draco knew today would be just like every other day. He’d woken up alone, he’d dressed alone, he’d walked alone and now he was eating alone. Further down the table, Pansy was chatting with Theo about the perfume her parents had sent her for her birthday last week, and how it wasn’t the one she’d _ asked _ for and ‘how on earth could they have sent her a toilette when she clearly meant the _ parfum.’_

Draco had gotten a wand, his mother, and his life for his birthday that year. He hadn’t dared to bring it up. His father’s trial had been the next day. He’d whispered happy birthday to himself at midnight and that had been that. 

He didn’t blame the others for staying away this year. Where they had only lost a few small pieces of their status, pieces that could be replaced over time, the Malfoys were shattered. Lucius was in Azkaban for two years and then on house arrest for another three. The sentence was lenient, a fact the Wizengamot took great pleasure in emphasizing. The ministry had stormed the manor and taken everything resembling Dark artifacts. There was plenty left, but it had still been hard on his mother. They hadn’t been gentle.

The Malfoys were done, and Draco’s so-called friends knew it. It didn’t bother him so much. Most of them he’d only kept close with to maintain his status as required by his father. He did miss Greg, but he wouldn’t ask him to sacrifice his fragile social standing for the sake of Draco’s loneliness.

So today, December 5th, Draco was once more alone at the breakfast table. It was ordinary. It was normal. Yet still, he felt he was forgetting something. 

He drifted through classes until dinner, when he turned away from the stream of students to head for the library. The eighth years were granted an extended curfew, and he planned to use that time to study. End-of-term exams were canceled for all NEWT students, but Draco needed top marks if he wanted— well, anything really. If he wanted anything.

Just as he rounded a corner, however, a bushy head of hair nearly knocked him over. 

“Granger!” He rolled his eyes but kept his tone polite. “Do watch where you’re going.”

Potter’s friends, surprisingly, had been the only ones treating him decently since his trial. Besides that, he would never forget the sound of Granger’s screams. They still haunted his nightmares.

“Oh, sorry, Malfoy,” she gasped as she tried to hold on to the stack of books in her arms. Draco quickly cast a lightening charm. “Thanks.”

He nodded and moved to pass her.

“Erm, Malfoy?” Granger sounded unsure. “I hope you’re not headed to the library, are you?”

“I was,” Draco frowned.

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” she shook her head. “Peeves is wrecking absolute havoc in there. If it’s just studying you’re doing, you could try the Eighth Year Lounge? I know it’s empty this time of day.”

“Alright,” Draco said hesitantly. Granger gave him a smile and continued on her way, the tower of books swaying precariously. 

It took him longer than he would have liked to get to the lounge. It was across the castle in the East Wing, a large room filled with couches and armchairs and tables, with lovely windows and a large fireplace. Draco rarely got to make use of it— glares and constant muttering didn’t a good studying environment make.

Today, however, he didn’t even make it to the door before he was stopped once again by Longbottom.

“Lounge is no good today, mate,” he shook his head sadly. “Ernie let off one of those portable swamps. I’m headed down to the greenhouses myself instead.”

Draco was left floundering over the fact that he’d just been called mate by none other than Longbottom. That is, until the words sank in and he gritted his teeth in irritation. Was nothing sacred? Was he ever going to get to just sit down? 

With new determination, he made for the next— or third— best option. While the common room wasn’t ideal, at least he knew no unfortunate magical accident would have rendered it inaccessible.

He wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t magical, nor an accident.

“Making out,” he repeated dumbly at Dean Thomas. “You’re not letting me in because the Weaslette is making out with Lovegood.” 

“Making out is putting it lightly,” Thomas held up a shockingly lacy bra. “Hit me in the head as I ran. Risk it if you want.” 

Draco was not going to risk anything, least of all his stomach. Weasleys in general were one thing. He did not need to see them in the sheets, thanks very much. 

Fuming, he turned to the last place where he knew he’d be sure to get some peace and quiet. He trudged through the familiar corridors and up spiraling stairs upon stairs with a solemn sort of resignation. 

Most people would think the Astronomy Tower anything but calming, and they hadn’t even been present during the horrific events that took place there. Draco, however, found a strange peace standing in the same spot where he’d stood two years prior. It was cathartic, like a deep breath. There was something forgiving about it, and something like a massive ‘fuck you’ to anyone and everyone who’d ever had expectations of him. He’d come up here sometimes when the skies were clear and just lay beneath the stars, breathing cold air until his head felt clear again. Today it would work well enough for studying.

When he rounded the top of the stairs, however, his lungs burning lightly from the climb, he almost turned right around and left the way he’d come. Sitting on the open edge of the tower, legs hanging over the drop and messy hair blowing in the breeze was—

“Oh, hey Malfoy!” Potter called out. Draco was still tempted to run, but quickly gave up on the idea as the Gryffindor stood up and dusted his trousers off. “You took your time.”

“I didn’t know I was expected,” Draco answered carefully. Potter smiled lopsidedly, and Draco got the distinct feeling he was missing something. It all felt off, too perfect, too… _ orchestrated _. 

“Oh, well, I’m sure you know now,” the other boy shrugged. “I mean, you probably went everywhere else before coming here, and the library was closed, or Peeves had destroyed something, or someone had an accident of some sort, am I right?” 

Draco stayed quiet. They’d planned this. He could see that. The only question was, why? Had Potter been treating him kindly all term just to torment him now, or was his plan deeper than that? For a second Draco entertained the wild idea that’d they’d lured him here for Potter to push him off. Maybe he deserved that. It would certainly be a poetic end. Let the punishment equal the crime, right?

The next second, however, he felt his stomach drop with a surge of anxious anticipation as the boy stepped closer. He was right in front of Draco now, biting his lip and twisting the hem of his sleeve in one hand. 

“Anyway, I guess you’re here now, so that worked out,” Potter laughed, but it sounded nervous. 

“What do you want?” Draco blurted. He immediately wanted to take the outburst back, but the next second a pleasant blush was spreading across Potter’s cheeks, and Draco was shocked by the realization that he rather loved the look of sheepish and innocent embarrassment on him. 

“Do you know what day it is?” Potter asked suddenly. 

“... December 5th?”

“It’s your half birthday,” Potter mumbled, so quietly that Draco barely heard him. When he did, however, the words left him frozen in shocked confusion. 

“My– my what?” He stuttered out dryly.

“Your half birthday,” Potter repeated. “I figured you didn’t get much of a real birthday this year, so I thought maybe this would do. I’m sorry it’s six months late, but Hermione refused to deal with time turners so this was the next best option.”

Draco watched helplessly as Potter drew his wand, and with a practised wave conjured up a cupcake. On top was a single burning candle, flickering in the breeze.

“Happy Birthday, Draco. Make a wish.” 

“I don’t—

“Just do it, wanker.” But Potter smiled as he said it, and so Draco did. He closed his eyes and thought about the past, and then he thought about the future, and then he breathed in and blew out the small flame. He thought about every mistake he’d made, and every decision, no matter how terrible, he would never take back because they had left him and those he loved alive at the end of the day. His mind skimmed over a thousand images in the span of a second without time to pause and consider a single one. The memories rushed past and flew off into the night before regret could consume him. Draco was left with a gentle hollow feeling, as though his own mind was finally making peace with him, leaving him empty and free. Slowly, his eyes blinked open. The smoke twisted delicately for a few moments before the glowing ember at the tip of the wick extinguished and they were left with wax making sneaky headway towards the icing. 

“You called me Draco,” was the only thing Draco could think to say. The first new moment. 

“Well, yeah, I’m kind of tired of Malfoy, you know?” Potter said. “Is that ok? If you mind, I don’t have to.”

“Goodness, Harry, with all that articulation you could be the next Socrates,” Draco snarked, but he knew by the amusement on Potter’s face that it lacked its usual edge. The Gryffindor stared for a second before bursting out laughing. Surprised, but feeling lighter than he had in months, Draco hesitantly cracked his own smile. 

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Potter–_ Harry _– shoved the cupcake at him and started digging about in his robes. “I had it here somewhere, I’m honestly so sorry for not giving it to you earlier, but I completely forgot about it until just a few weeks ago. I would have given it back ages ago otherwise…”

He finally produced a thin wooden box tied with a silver ribbon. Draco didn’t recognize it, but neither did he question it when Harry handed it to him. With gentle fingers he untied the silk and pried back the lid to reveal—

“Oh Merlin.” 

The words echoed around them. There, tucked into rich velvet, were ten inches of hawthorn, pulsing with a warm power he could never forget. 

“That’s my wand.” He didn’t know when the lump had formed in his throat. His eyes burned. Wordlessly, Harry plucked it from the box and took his hand, pressing the familiar wood into his palm. 

“I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Why– Potter, why are you– you didn’t have to–” Draco took a shuddering breath. “Why are you doing this? Bringing me here, and giving me presents of all things—”

He choked on his words at Harry took a step towards him. They’d already been standing close, but that last stride brought Harry’s lips dangerously near his own. The warmth of his chest only choked Draco up more, his breath brushing his cheek softly. Dying sunlight glinted off Harry’s glasses as he swallowed. 

“Because I wanted to.”

“But _ why _?” Draco whispered. 

Harry smiled as he wound his hand through the hair at the nape of Draco’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. His lips were warm and dry, but then Draco felt the wet heat of a tongue against his mouth, coaxing his lips apart and slipping in and— _ oh Merlin _. The first brush of their tongues was like a shock through his body. Draco shivered, a weak moan escaping him as Harry sucked on his lower lip and teased it with his teeth. He would be happy to stay like this forever, his hands tangled in Harry’s tie as he came undone under that wet mouth. 

When they broke apart, his knees were weak and he gasped for breath. Harry’s eyes were blown wide, only a thin sliver of that deep green ringing his dark pupils. His lips were wet and his cheeks flushed, and Draco barely had time to feel embarrassed by his own appearance in the face of that pure want. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmured. “I wish you knew.”

Draco practically melted against him as he was pulled into another kiss, this one gentle and slow. Harry barely moved, the both of them just reveling in the sensation. 

“Go out with me,” Harry breathed between kisses. “Please. I want— to talk— to kiss you— take you to stupid Hogsmead—”

And just like that, Draco’s heart was more full than he’d ever felt in his life. 

“Yes,” he got out before Harry claimed his mouth again, his overjoyed laugh getting swallowed up in the process. 

“We’re going to be so sappy,” Harry finally declared after pulling back. “I’m going to cuddle you in the common room, and hold your hand in the halls, and take you out and snog you wherever and whenever we choose and if anyone—”

“Potter,” Draco was laughing for real now. “Stop. We’re not doing that, people will—”

“If ANYONE,” Harry continued over him with a wide grin, “says shite about it they can shove it straight up their arse, because I did not defeat your megalomaniac psychotic overlord just to have Hogwarts’ finest tell me ‘no’.” 

Draco pursed his lips. He felt overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, the unwavering dedication and excitement in Harry’s eyes. But whether that was a bad overwhelmed or a good one remained to be seen. 

“You really want to do this?” He hedged. It seemed like at any moment the joy would disappear. It was far to incredible— too unbelievably good— to be true. 

“You don’t?” Harry shot back. “Oh, don’t try,” he rolled his eyes when Draco hesitated. “We both know you’ve been eyeing my arse every quidditch game of the season.”

“I have done no such thing,” Draco sputtered indignantly. He had definitely done exactly such a thing. 

“Whatever you say,” Harry shrugged, pressing closer once again. “My point remains though. I want to be with you. I want to try.”

Draco slowly raised a hand to run his fingers over those still-damp lips. Here it was, everything he’d been chasing since he’d been too young to even know he liked boys, everything he’d fought for and against and a sizable part of his turmoil for the past eight years, handed to him just like that. Harry was offering him a chance at everything. A chance to try. Did he still want to? Did he even deserve to at this point?

Draco’s eyes drifted to the cupcake lying on the floor. It had landed icing first when Harry kissed him, but the candle was still sticking out of the mess. Who gave a damn whether he deserved it or not? As for what he wanted...

“Let’s try, then.”

Harry’s answering smile was blinding. “Scared, Malfoy?” he couldn’t help but tease. 

“Terrified,” Draco nodded with an answering grin. 

But in time, maybe he wouldn’t be. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading lovelies<3 please leave a comment or kudos and let me know if you liked it! it means the world to me


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